Dragon Pox
by RLynnT
Summary: Dragon Pox is spreading in Britain. Just like Chicken Pox, the older you are, the more severe it is. Harry Potter catches it and has to be taken to St. Mungo's where a trainee Healer, Draco Malfoy has to tend to him. THIS IS NOT A DRARRY! NOT A ROMANCE! HarrySick!
1. Chapter 1

The year that has passed since the war ended worked wonders for those wishing to start over again. A new Minister was has been working well with the public, numbers of Death Eaters have been locked away in Azkaban, and families have been reuniting and strengthening ever since.

The Burrow has been full as ever, but not only with Weasleys. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter have both been invited to live with the pack of red-heads until they managed to find a place for themselves. Now that George was living in his own little flat, each of the young adults was able to have their own rooms.

Mrs. Weasley was very keen to keep an eye on which room they were occupying more time in. Especially since Ron and Hermione have been going out for a full year and Harry and Ginny were making up for the time they had spent apart the previous year. All of them were behaving well enough (at least when she was around). She had caught Harry coming out of Ginny's room early one morning, but she soon found it nothing to be too concerned about. It seemed Ginny had a nightmare about Harry's apparent dead corpse in Hagrid's hands again and she woke up hysterical. It was all he could do to just wrap her in his arms and whisper words of comfort.

This morning was a beautiful one. It was early spring, the flowers were slowly budding and Molly was in the middle of making breakfast. She had just added a few finished sausage links to the plate when an owl soared through the open window with _The Daily Prophet_. She quickly paid the owl and it zoomed off, leaving the paper on the counter.

Footsteps sounded from the stairs. Ron and Hermione emerged. Ron was currently in training to become an Auror and had been asking for advice practically every day. While Hermione was usually helpful, it was beginning to get tiresome.

"Stop worrying, Ronald" she said in an exasperated tone, "I'm sure your abilities in disguise will be fine. We touched on Human Transfiguration in our 6th year."

"Yeah, but the only kind of practice I've ever had is Polyjuice Potion and the invisibility cloak, and that's Harry's anyway."

"Fine, we'll touch on a few more this afternoon." She sat down next to him.

"Thanks," he whispered, holding her hand. She smiled.

Mrs. Weasley just finished placing the food on the table when Ginny walked in. Ron was already stuffing his face.

"Would you mind keeping it in your mouth, Ron?" Ginny asked as a piece of egg fell from his chin to the table.

"Is Harry up yet?" Mrs. Weasley asked, noticing she was unaccompanied.

"I guess not. I'll go get him." Ginny made to stand up, but Mrs. Weasley waved her back down.

"Nonsense, dear. You go on and eat, I'll get him."

Mrs. Weasley made her way up to Harry's room, expecting to find him still asleep. To her surprise, he was already sitting up in bed leaning his head against his hand. He looked up as she walked in.

"Oh, Harry. I wasn't sure if you were up yet. Aren't you coming down for breakfast?"

Harry paused for a moment before answering. If he was truly honest, he didn't know if he even wanted to eat. His stomach felt like it was churning lightly, but at the same time, it gave a low growl of hunger. He felt like he wanted to eat, but was unsure if he could keep it down.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, stepping closer. "You look a little pale."

"I'm okay," he tried to reassure her. "I guess I just didn't sleep too well. I'll be down in a minute."

Mrs. Weasley wasn't convinced, but recognized the polite dismissal and left.

It was another 15 minutes before Harry emerged from the stairs slowly. He sat down next to Ginny and grabbed a small amount of eggs and a slice of toast. Thankfully, his stomach didn't seem too bothered and he was able to finish his small plate.

"Not hungry?" Ron wondered. He knew Harry usually helped himself when given the opportunity.

"Not really."

"Nervous about the training? I know I am."

"I'm sure you both will be great." Mrs. Weasley assured.

The conversation of becoming an Auror continued. Hermione was listing out the different things she understood would be coming up. Ron was trying to reassure himself, even though he had messed up twice when practicing with Harry the previous week on counter-jinxes.

Harry didn't speak much. He didn't want to tell anyone that he wasn't feeling well. He thought for sure it would pass with time, but that didn't seem to be the case. He scratched an itch on his shoulder that had been bothering him since the night before. What was once a small bother was becoming mildly irritating.

By the time supper was ready, Harry was shaky and feeling sick to his stomach.

"Harry, are you sure you're okay?" Ginny asked when she saw he wasn't eating. Everyone looked up at this question. Though Harry had been trying to hold off from telling them anything, he knew now there would be no way out.

"… I'm just… not feeling very well," he confessed.

In the blink of an eye, Mrs. Weasley's hand was pressed to his forehead.

"You _do_ feel warm," she commented. She lifted his head slightly to get a better look at his face. He was rather pale and his eyes were glazed and tired looking. "You go on up to bed. I'll be up in a bit with some potions that should help."

Harry nodded. The idea of getting away from the smell of food and curling up in bed sounded wonderful. He slowly stood up and made his way upstairs as another irritating itch attacked his shoulder.

Mrs. Weasley was rummaging through her potions cupboard as Crookshanks leapt onto the counter, pushing the unread _Daily Prophet_ to the ground. The headline read: _Dragon Pox: Outbreak in Britain._


	2. Chapter 2

3 Days Later…

St. Mungo's Hospital Second Floor was receiving a steady flow in incoming patients with Dragon Pox. Though it is not a disease anyone should wish on anyone, many Healers were at least pleased to find that the fair majority of patients were young children. These cases are, in many cases, much less severe and are able to recover the quickest. However, there have been cases that have met tragic endings for 2 elderly wizards. The older the patient with the disease, the more severe, and in some cases _deadly_ , it can become.

The Healers in charge of these cases are extra cautious. Potions have been invented to help keep it from spreading, but there is no known cure. Many of the Healers in these wards have contracted the disease themselves in their youth, but, similar to Chicken Pox, after you catch it once, it won't happen again. This makes them perfect to care for others without fear.

One trainee Healer was pleased about the amount of experience he was getting in this department and how much help he had been to a few sick kids. Though raised with more pride than some would tolerate, Draco Malfoy chose to work here to see if he could better himself as well as work on his family's poor reputation since the war (along with the fact that the Ministry would not give him a job until "further investigations have been completed". Meaning "the Malfoys have to _prove_ their worth to the Ministry now"). Even now, a year later, he still got angry glances and snide comments from some incoming patients. At first, when this occurred, Malfoy would draw himself up and think up a rude retort. Now, however, Malfoy was growing quieter in the public eye. When someone would burst out about his family's involvement with You-Know-Who, he had trained himself not to respond, though a dirty look would likely make an appearance.

It was by no means his "dream job". In fact, he wondered whether or not he would continue this line of work after a couple of years. However, his great marks in Potions and the open volunteer system at the hospital helped him at least make it to "trainee" level. If anything, it's a respectable position.

This week, Draco has found himself working overtime. He was finally able to go home the day before yesterday for a well-needed day off. He had just arrived when Healer Martha Jorkinson caught sight of him.

"Ah! Draco! I'm glad you're here. We have a few more patients likely about to check in."

"Alright," he replied about to head out the door. As a trainee, Malfoy was restricted on what he can and cannot do regarding the patients. One thing he has found himself doing most of the time is checking people in and administering minor potions.

"Hold on!" She called before he walked out. He waited, holding the door open with a clipboard in hand. "There is one patient waiting to be seen who, apparently, doesn't want to give his name to the receptionist. Would you mind taking care of him first? He's in a big hooded cloak."

This sounded suspicious.

"…Okay."

Malfoy made his way down the hall wondering what this patient was going to be like. Perhaps the rough scales that had likely formed caused him/her to feel embarrassed. However, that doesn't explain why they wouldn't give a name. When he reached the waiting area, his eyes quickly found the person in question. A hooded figure hunched over on a chair shaking and coughing roughly. Upon seeing the people accompanying him, though, Malfoy figured out rather quickly.

A small swarm of red-headed people were standing and sitting around the cloaked figure, holding his hand, rubbing his back and speaking words of comfort. A bushy brown-haired girl was standing close as well, looking sympathetically at the figure.

Malfoy stood frozen in the doorway. This would be a difficult encounter. If a number of the Weasley family _and_ Granger were here, then he knew exactly whose face was under the hood and why he hadn't given his name. It was hard enough facing the number of patients who knew his name, but these were his old _classmates_ , his old _rivals._

After a short pause, which no one in the waiting room had noticed, Malfoy slowly walked forward. If he's going to do this, he would have to make it at painless as possible.

"Hello," he greeted in a low voice.

The Weasleys turned. All of their eyes went wide with unsatisfied recognition.

" _What?_ " growled Ron, gaping at his lime green robe (the standard uniform at St. Mungo's) " _Malfoy?_ What the hell are _you_ doing here?"

Malfoy simply blinked, trying to keep his face expressionless.

"I work here now," he replied simply.

"Well, take your work elsewhere!" Ron hissed indignantly. He turned to the woman at the counter. "Get us someone else!"

"Ron!" Hermione grabbed his arm to try and calm him down.

The woman behind the counter had seen this kind of behavior before when Malfoy offered to help. She had seen Malfoy's work and was relatively pleased with him. Therefore, she ignored Ron, trusting Malfoy to handle it.

"Why are you _here?_ " Ron asked with a sneer. "Aren't you scared you'll get sick? Wouldn't want anyone sneezing on you, would you?"

Malfoy blinked again.

"I caught Dragon Pox when I was 5. I can't catch it again."

Malfoy looked down at the hooded figure. He hadn't looked up during any of this. The Weasley girl was holding his hand as hand as he coughed violently. Mrs. Weasley looked nervous.

"Ron, now is not the time!" she hissed at her son. "He _needs_ help-"

"And you think he's gonna get it from _him?_ " Ron asked jabbing his thumb at Malfoy. "What are you doing?"

Malfoy had knelt down in front of the cloaked person, attempting to look at his condition, but before he could raise the hood, Ron shoved him. Several people stared and the woman behind the counter made to stand up.

" _Ronald!"_ Hermione yelled, grabbing Ron by the shoulders. "Just _stop_!"

Ron glared at Malfoy as he got himself to his feet. His blood was boiling but he had to watch himself. He gazed back determinately into Ron's eyes.

He spoke slowly.

"I need to see how severe it has gotten."

Ron waved Hermione off of him and walked right up to Malfoy so they were an inch apart.

"If you're really here to ' _do your job_ ', then leave it at that. He's been through enough the past few days and the last thing he needs is the _Prophet_ flashing photos of him or you giving him a hard time because of this." Ron was whispering so the crowd around them couldn't hear.

Malfoy nodded stiffly and Ron, still glaring at him, stepped back.

He got back down on his knees in front of the patient. He was still shaking, his breathing was uneven. Slowly, he lifted the hood high enough to see.

There were two large, rough scales that had formed on his neck and around his left temple. He was very pale and clammy. He had obviously not eaten in the past few days, for he looked even skinnier than usual. There were great bags under his emerald eyes. They looked up at him slowly.

For a second, they just stared at each other. Malfoy had a number of things going on in his head, from what needed to be treated and how to imagining the rough time this person has had since he started feeling ill.

He noted that, as he looked into his eyes, there was almost no emotion. There was no resentment, anger, or even dislike, which Malfoy had often seen when their eyes met. Here, all he could see was exhaustion and pain. He could tell that he knew who was helping him, but he seemed beyond caring.

Malfoy stood and wrote on his clipboard. The Weasleys watched silently, waiting to see what he would do. When he finished, he looked up.

"Okay," he began, regaining his composure as a Healer in training. "If you would come with me, I can take you back. This will likely take at least a few days, so we will go ahead and set you up in a room. Healer McMillon will see you there."

Harry nodded under the cloak and slowly stood. Ginny helped him.

"We'll see you as soon as we can," Ginny said patting his arm. She wanted to hug him, but some of the scales on his back were really painful. "Don't hesitate to write."

"Feel better, mate," Ron added lowly. He gave an added glare to Malfoy as if to say "you'd better lay off."

Mrs. Weasley stepped in front of him and lifted the hood lightly so she could see his face. Her eyes shined with unshed tears.

"Don't you worry, Harry. You'll be back on your broom before you know it." She gave him an encouraging smile, which he returned weakly. He was so tired.

She squeezed his hand and watched him walk beside Malfoy down the hall to the Dragon Pox Ward.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy led the way to a room on the furthest end of the West Ward. These were for patients with more severe cases. Though Harry's condition now was stable, to say the least, Malfoy knew that this was just the beginning. The roughness of the brown-black scales was far worse than any of the children he had tended to. Theirs merely looked like large itchy scabs. These were much larger, darker and, from what he saw on Harry's face, much more painful.

They made it to a door at the end of the hall and entered, Malfoy holding the door open. Once it was closed, he spoke.

"Alright," he began slowly; trying to sound like this was a normal day. "You can go ahead and take off that cloak. This will be your room. No one will see you but the Healers." He walked over to a drawer and pulled out a pair of white pajamas. He threw them lightly on the bed. "You'll want to change into those."

Harry didn't speak, but started removing his cloak. It was getting more awkward by the minute. Malfoy was filling out the form on his clipboard and writing a quick memo for Healer McMillon, informing him vaguely of the situation. Once he had finished, he folded it up into a paper airplane, lightly opened the door and blew underneath it. The plane rose into the air and zoomed off to McMillon's office.

When Malfoy turned around, he froze again. Harry had taken his shirt off with his back facing him. Malfoy saw two more very large scales on his back and shoulder. These were not the brown-black color of the ones on his neck and face, but these were a sickening color combination of purple and green. These were signs that the scales were getting infected. On top of that, he could see just how skinny Harry really was now. He could practically count his ribs.

Harry didn't notice this, or if he did he didn't show it. He put on the large white shirt and sat on the side of the bed.

Malfoy shook his head and tried to get back to work. He was trying to remember what to do next, but the sight of those scales had him shaken. This certainly was going to be a very severe case.

"… erm…" Malfoy tried to find his voice again. "… I need to ask you a few questions… for Hr. McMillon… about… about your condition…" He looked over his shoulder anxiously.

Harry, still looking at the floor, nodded

"… so… erm… when do you believe the symptoms started?"

"About three days ago," Harry answered. His voice was low and hoarse, clearly from coughing so much.

"… wha-what symptoms did it start off with and how has it changed?" Malfoy asked while writing the previous answer.

"At first it was just small stomach problems and feeling warm. My shoulder was itching a bit, but not as bad as it is now," He paused to cough hard a few more times. "Now… I don't know… everything hurts."

Malfoy scribbled a few more notes.

"… I take it you haven't eaten or slept much since the symptoms began?"

Harry shook his head.

"When was the last time you ate?" Now that he got the questions going, it was feeling less awkward.

Harry thought for a minute.

"I had a bit of soup yesterday," he shrugged.

"Did you sleep well last night?"

"No."

"How many hours would you say you got?"

"… Three?"

Harry started coughing again. It sounded very dry and painful. Malfoy put down his clipboard and opened a cabinet over the counter that held minor potions. As a trainee, he at least had enough authority to distribute these. He grabbed a cough suppressant, uncorked it and handed it to Harry, who gratefully took it.

As Harry caught his breath, Malfoy was feeling the awkwardness of the situation rising again. In a second, he would have to do a physical examination. Nothing out of the ordinary, but when it's with someone you used to hate, it makes the task more difficult.

"…erm…" Malfoy began again "… Wh-What kind of potions have you taken within the last few days?"

"… er… a fever reducer… a stomach soother… *cough*… er… a pain reliever…"

"Nothing besides the simple healing potions?" Malfoy offered.

"No." Harry winced and his hand jerked towards the purplish scale on his shoulder.

Malfoy sighed. He went back to the cabinet and pulled out a large bottle with a thick pinkish paste. He would have to apply it directly to the scale.

"… er… this… this should help." He offered, holding up the bottle. Harry looked at it, confused.

"… It'll help against the itch and the pain… I'm gonna need you to take off your shirt… I'll go ahead and apply it."

 _This is really weird_ , he thought to himself as Harry removed his shirt again.

He felt his stomach twinge as he got a closer view of the sickly scales. He got some of the paste on his hands and, after a second of awkward hesitation, lightly applied it to the scale on his shoulder. Harry winced and gave a small hiss as the sting of the potion dug through the scale.

"This is a kind of lotion that slowly works on Dragon Pox scales. It has to be reapplied regularly, but it works its way through the tough skin to soften the tissues, relieve the itch and reduce the pain. When used correctly, it helps over time to shrink the scale until it's gone."

Malfoy had explained this so many times to parents and kids within the last week that he said it without having to think about it. Harry just sat there, his muscles steadily relaxing. After the potion had been applied, Malfoy waved his wand and said " _Ferula_ " and bandages appeared wrapping themselves tightly around the scales.

Malfoy paused again and walked in front of him.

"… I'll hafta… get… those too," he added pointing at Harry's neck rather than his face.

"Draco."

Malfoy stopped. Harry looked up.

"Look, I know this is really awkward for both of us. I can see that you are just trying to help, and I thank you for that. I know we haven't exactly been friends in the past… nor have we always been on the same side…" he added in a low mumble, "… but right now, I couldn't care less _who_ is helping me. I'm too tired from all of this to think about any fights we had or anything. Just… *sigh*… just treat me the way you would with any other patient."

Malfoy nodded. He understood what he meant. He was hesitating more than he usually would because of who he is and he doesn't want that. Rather than dawdling on how weird the situation is, it would be better to just try and _improve_ the situation.

Without a word, Malfoy added another glob of the potion onto his fingers and applied it to the scales on Harry's head and neck. He waved his wand again and more bandages wrapped themselves around Harry's neck, making sure it wasn't too tight to prevent him from breathing. He could leave the one on Harry's head exposed.

"Are there any others?"

Harry straightened up and he saw a thick black one on his chest.

"I can get this one." Harry said. Malfoy gave him the bottle, stood up and went back to his clipboard.

He just finished noting the number and description of the scales when Hr. McMillon walked in. He took a single step, intending to speak, but was struck dumb by seeing who was sitting on the bed.

"Oh! Mr. Potter. I didn't expect to see you here… Erm, forgive me. I am Hr. Marcus McMillon. I will be your healer during your stay here." He hardly blinked as he stared at Harry.

Malfoy, sensing another pause, thrust the clipboard into the Healer's hands.

"Ah, right, Dragon Pox." He quickly read through the form and looked up. "I see Mr. Malfoy has provided the Scale Salve, has he?"

Harry nodded with a weak smile.

Hr. McMillon consulted the clipboard again.

"Alright, allow me to just run a few extra diagnostic spells to see if we missed anything."


	4. Chapter 4

Back at the Burrow

It had been just a few hours since the Weasley's and Hermione returned to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had just finished cleaning up Harry's room. There had been loads of potion bottles strewn about and his sheets were filthy from sweat and, to their great concern, some blood from the scales. She came back downstairs in order to start making lunch for everyone. They were sitting around the fireplace in sad silence when the door opened. George had arrived, a sack around his shoulder.

"Hey," he greeted, attempting a smile. Ron had sent him a letter the previous day explaining why they hadn't come to the joke shop as they had planned. "How is he?"

"Not any better," Ginny answered in a low voice. "We just dropped him off at St. Mungo's a few hours ago."

"St. Mungo's? Has it gotten that bad?"

They all nodded glumly.

George frowned sympathetically and removed the bag from his shoulder.

"Come in, George. You'll want to take a potion to be sure you don't catch it. I have another in here," Mrs. Weasley offered rushing to her cabinet. She returned with a glass of a transparent blue liquid. George drank it without complaint.

"Thanks, mum."

George then reached into his bag and brought out some items from the joke shop. They could tell from the colorful wrapping.

"I thought I'd go ahead and bring some of our newest items. We've even completed our new potion game… I thought it might, you know, help the time pass."

With nothing else to occupy their time and attention, they all took him up on the idea. George had only finished explaining the rules of the game by the time Mrs. Weasley had finished preparing lunch. They continued to ask George about the joke shop as it was the only positive topic they could keep their attention on.

When lunch was finished, they went on to play George's new potion game. He had recently gotten it approved (assuring the Ministry that no potions being used were illegal or harmful). They played a couple rounds where each person would end up with a different unknown potion, resulting in unexpected and often funny outcomes.

After the game he went on showing them his new products, but even the joy of these creative and fun inventions began to wear off. They were all thinking of how much Harry would enjoy these.

There was silence again.

"… I could mail him some," George offered. "Maybe it'll help take his mind off of things."

"Yeah," Hermione said, "but better not send him the game yet. It's not good to mix different potions in his system right now."

"I know, I know."

"… How about we write him a letter, too? He hardly gets mail as it is," Ron offered.

"Good idea," Ginny agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

The hours didn't seem to want to pass in St. Mungo's. Time slugged by as more and more troubling cases of Dragon Pox emerged. Some were coming in with scales that seemed to be producing miniscule horns. These were more difficult to tend to and became increasingly painful for the patients. A few were sneezing and coughing up what looked like specks of coal, which turned out to be the charred remains of whatever they were last eating.

The effects of Dragon Pox can vary between patients. Something that was a minor issue for one can be a painful struggle for another. This is one reason why the disease is so difficult to tend to and can bring a rather tough fight for the patients.

Harry was lying on his side in his bed while the three Healers rushed around him. The greenish scale on his back had started bleeding and seemed to be peeling off. It was hot at the touch and the Healers were rushing to stem the flow of blood, close the wound and ease the pain.

Harry was fighting hard to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. It was very painful. It felt like that part of his back was being burned off. The heat was making him sweat and he was panting between the occasional cough.

"Hold on, Harry," Hr. Jorkinson encouraged. "We've just about got it."

It was growing too much for Harry to handle. He leaned his head over the side of the bed and vomited.

"Draco! Quick! Clean that up! We've got our hands full!"

Malfoy waved his wand and the mess vanished. He then grabbed a cup on the counter and whispered " _Aguamenti._ " And it filled with water. He then took a tongue depressor and, with a quick flick, transformed it into a straw and placed it into the cup.

"Here. You need to stay hydrated."

He held the cup so the straw was at Harry's lips. Shaking horribly, Harry took a few sips.

After about 15 more minutes, they had the wound cleaned and bandaged. The scale was now in a sanitary dish with a lid on it for more testing. Hr. Jorkinson grabbed a cool wet rag and started wiping Harry's sweaty face. His eyes were closed but he was still breathing heavily and coughing occasionally.

"I thought you said you gave him a cough suppressant," Hr. Jorkinson rounded on Malfoy.

" _I did,"_ he answered indignantly. "I gave it to him when he first got here."

The Healers looked confused.

"It shouldn't have worn off yet," Hr. McMillon stated.

Harry wasn't paying attention. He was doing everything he could just to relax. His head was pounding his skin was burning and itchy, his throat was killing him with each cough and he hadn't even slept in what felt like days. He was so tired and so ill.

The other healers seem to have noticed the bags under his eyes.

"What do you think? Should we give him a sleeping draught?" Hr. Kert asked McMillon. He thought for a minute.

"I don't think so," He said finally. Malfoy looked up surprised.

"Why not? He hasn't gotten practically any sleep in the last two days. He told me. Look at him, he's exhausted."

" _I can see that, Mr. Malfoy_ ," McMillon answered sharply. Malfoy dropped his gaze. "It's the fact that with the number of potions that we have _and_ will still need to administer, it would be inadvisable to mix the effects of those potions in his system. Certain sleeping potions are much more sensitive to the effects of other potions. Some of those ways can be potentially dangerous. I thought you would have known that by now."

Malfoy said nothing. He knew he stepped over the line in questioning his supervisor, but it was hard to keep looking at Harry when he was clearly in a lot of pain. It felt strange to be defending someone who he used to call an enemy, but it was clear he won't get any proper rest in this condition.

"If everything is stable for now, I'm going to run to my office. I have some files of recently developed healing potions. Maybe there'll be something there to help." Hr. McMillon left.

"I'll restock the potions we've already used. I shouldn't be long," added Hr. Kert. With a quick glance at Harry, he left.

Hr. Jorkinson continued to wipe Harry's face and neck to cool him down. Harry was very grateful for this. The cool cloth felt refreshing. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"… Can I have another drink?" he mumbled.

"Of course you can," she said brightly. She grabbed the glass and held it for him as he drank more.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, Harry. Do you need anything else? Do you have a headache?"

"Yes."

Before Jorkinson could stand, Malfoy was holding out the headache medicine for her to take.

Harry was so relieved to feel the pounding in his head disappear. There was another moment of calm silence before Jorkinson spoke again.

"Do you think you could stomach any food right now, Harry?"

"… I'll try."

"Okay. How about I get you some soup?" Harry nodded and she left.

Malfoy was fiddling with some of the potions on the shelf to have something to do. Since this was a special case, he was asked to stay. They had another trainee attending to any new arrivals. Harry had asked him to treat him as any other patient, but now there was nothing for him to be able to do. They had administered all the necessary potions and were off to get more. He was already bandaged and was about to get food. What else is he supposed to do?

Harry coughed hard again. He noticed Malfoy messing around with the potions, keeping his back to him. Since they were coming back with food in a moment and his cough was still putting up a fight, he might as well try and make simple conversation to pass the time.

"…Well," he started, Malfoy turned. "… at least I'm not here because of Quidditch again, right?"

Malfoy gave a small smile. He had once made fun of Harry for being in the hospital wing at Hogwarts because of all the times he was hurt during Quidditch and supposed that was what he was referring to.

"Yeah," Malfoy gave a small laugh, "or because you were attacked by a dragon again."

Harry made a small laugh, trying not to bother his already scratchy throat.

"Speaking of dragons, was it true that, when you broke into Gringotts, you escaped on one of their dragons?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry replied.

"Do you know what kind it was? I didn't hear."

"Ukrainian Ironbelly. Ron told me"

"How did you get it to not _eat_ you?" Malfoy wondered.

"It didn't really notice we were on its back. It was partially blind."

There was a small pause again. Harry had closed his eyes.

"So, I saw you holding hands with Weas-er… Ron's sister," he stopped himself because he didn't want to sound pompous calling him "Weasley" again, especially since Harry had called him by his first name earlier.

Harry just smiled.

"Still going out with her?"

"Ginny? Yeah."

"Must have been together for a while, huh? Thinking about popping the question?"

"… yeah. I've been looking at rings for the past few weeks, but none seem right… I may special order one."

Harry's voice seemed a little more muffled and distant. Malfoy looked up again. His eyes were still closed and he seemed relaxed. Malfoy had a feeling Harry was close to falling asleep. He was about to just let him when the door opened. Harry looked up curiously.

It was Hr. McMillon. He had a stack of files and papers in his hands. He looked at Harry with a smile.

"Funny thing just happened," he started, walking toward Harry's bed. "Apparently a parcel came for me in my office. Inside the envelope was _another_ envelope." He held it up revealing Harry's name on it. "I think your friends wanted to make sure if anyone else saw the envelope it would be for me, and I could get it to you."

Harry smiled and took it. He opened the letter and read:

 _Harry,  
How are you feeling? We know we just left a while ago, but we thought a letter might cheer you up and help give you something to do if you're bored. Plus, you haven't gotten mail in a long time and thought you might like it.  
We were told it would be best to wait until your condition improves before visiting again. They said it would be a greater chance of us getting infected. Sorry.  
George came by with some stuff for you. It's included in the parcel attached to this letter. They are new inventions for the joke shop. Not incredible or anything, but they are pretty cool.  
We hope Malfoy isn't giving you a hard time. Ron admits he shouldn't have shoved him, but, given the past, I guess you can see why.  
I know it must not be fun for you. Though I haven't had it, I've heard stories. I do hope you're alright. And don't try to lie and say you are "just fine" like you always do.  
Send an owl when you can.  
Get plenty of rest and we'll see you soon.  
Love,  
Ginny_

The sides of the letter were surrounded by scribbles of "Get well, mate" and "Hang in there" in different various handwriting styles suggesting everyone wanted to say something in the letter. He then looked over at the parcel that Hr. McMillon placed on his bedside table.

By the time he had finished going through the items in the package, Hr.'s Kert and Jorkinson had returned with more potions and a bowl of soup. Hr. Jorkinson offered him some parchment to mail a reply and he took it with a tired smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Over the following two days, a single barn owl has flown back and forth between St. Mungo's and the Burrow 5 times. Though it tired the owl out quickly, it kept everyone's spirits a little higher.

Bill and Fleur brought little Teddy Lupin to the Burrow for a visit. Teddy had been staying with Tonks' mother since her death but Harry always pays a visit a few times a month so Teddy won't forget him. Mrs. Weasley enclosed a picture of him with jet black hair instead of his usual turquois. According to Andromeda, it's because he wants to see Harry because he also keeps shrieking "Uncka!" since Harry introduced himself more as "Uncle Harry" rather than "Godfather". This made Harry grin broadly.

Fleur was pregnant and was due within a couple months. They decided to choose a name when the baby comes to see what would fit better. Bill was very excited.

Harry thanked everyone for the well wishes and for the package and assured them that Malfoy wasn't any trouble. His fever wasn't broken yet, but it hadn't spiked in a while at least.

That was only a small consolation, though.

He had to have the bandages on his back changed constantly. Not only because of the wound left by the fallen scale, but to reapply the Scale Salve on those remaining. He wasn't eating much and seemed to be getting a bit skinnier than he already was. He wasn't catching up on much sleep since he got there either. He would sleep for a couple hours and wake up coughing. His cough, by far, was becoming his biggest problem. It grew steadily worse each day making it harder for him to breathe.

The healers were still befuddled as to why the cough suppressants didn't seem to have an effect. After trying a third potion with no effect, Hr. McMillon had Harry sit up so he could get a better view of the back of his throat.

He stiffened with wide eyes as he realized what he saw. The back of Harry's throat was not red raw as he expected, but black, rough, dry and practically pulsing. There was a large scale growing in his throat, swelling his esophagus and closing his airways.


	7. Chapter 7

As the fourth day went on, the Weasley family was growing restless. Harry hadn't written back since early yesterday morning. There wasn't a single owl that arrived that day. Mr. Weasley, who had the day off, assured them that he was probably catching up on some well-needed sleep.

They tried to keep themselves occupied with Teddy, who was having so much fun playing with some of George's joke shop toys, but threw a fit when Mrs. Weasley took away one of the potions from the game and made to drink it. George put all of it away after that.

By the time dinner was ready, everyone was growing anxious. Where was the mail? Surely, Harry would have written back by now. As if on cue, Hermione, mouth full of food, pointed out the window. The owl was making its way towards the Burrow. Ginny rushed to open the window and it landed in the middle of the kitchen table.

To their surprise, the owl simply dropped the letter it was carrying and took off.

"Oi!" Ron called, but it was too late. The owl had gone.

Everyone paused. It had always waited for them to write a reply before taking off again. Why didn't it stay? Mr. Weasley realized this and spoke.

"We've worn down that same owl so many times these past few days. I think it may want to have a rest." He had his doubts though.

Ginny grabbed the letter first, but didn't open it. She stared at the front of the envelope.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"… This isn't Harry's handwriting." She turned the envelope to face them, still holding it in her hand. Sure enough, the hand that wrote this had much better penmanship. It looked… professional.

Ginny ripped open the letter and scanned it silently.

"Read it out loud," George insisted.

Ginny simply stood frozen. Mrs. Weasley walked over to her just as a tear fell from her eyes.

"Ginny, _what is it?_ What's wrong?" Ron demanded.

Mrs. Weasley took the letter from her limp fingers and read slowly:

 _Dear Weasley Family,  
My name is Healer Martha Jorkinson. I am one of the healers in charge of Mr. Potter's well-being during his stay here.  
I am aware that Mr. Potter has been writing to you regularly since he was admitted and I am sure you've been wondering why you haven't received a response from him.  
I am very sorry to inform you that Mr. Potter's condition has become, at this time, critical. We have our best healers with him now and we are doing our best to improve the situation.  
I am afraid I cannot disclose any more information until further notice.  
We kindly ask you to refrain from further correspondence until notified by Healer Marcus McMillon, the head of our department. All attention at this point must be toward Mr. Potter's health and survival.  
We will be in touch as soon as we can and kindly ask for your patience in this matter.  
Best Regards,  
Hr. Martha Jorkinson_

Mr. Weasley stood up and took the letter to reread it. Mrs. Weasley turned away from everyone and faced the sink to hide her tears. Ron was still as a statue. Hermione covered her mouth with her hands.

The silence in the Burrow was practically tangible.

"… survival?" Ron asked in a small voice.

No one responded. Everyone in the room, with the exception of Teddy, knew what that sounded like.

Harry was currently fighting for his life.


	8. Chapter 8

The fifth day was a struggle for everyone. The healers were working frantically to stabilize the situation. Potion after potion was being examined thoroughly to see if it would be of any help along with numerous spells. They had to resort to a respiration potion just to help him breathe.

It was not a potion to drink, but inhale. The liquid of the potion emits a continuous swirling cloud of pale blue smoke. There was a generic gas-mask that would connect the opening of the flask to the mouth and nose of the patient. When inhaled, the vapor actually opens any closed airways and produces fresh, clean oxygen for the patient to breathe in. In some cases, it has forced air into the lungs of unconscious patients who had stopped breathing all together. Here, while it helps him breathe, it does not make any change to the harsh scale in his throat that was causing this.

Hr.'s McMillon, Jorkinson and Kert hardly left the room since Harry's condition worsened. Draco was assigned to help Hr. Kert come up with a solution for the scale in his throat. If it got infected, like the one on his back, it would likely leak blood into his stomach and potentially his lungs. If dislodged, it could easily choke him due to its size along with the amount of blood that would follow.

Harry was completely miserable. He hasn't slept at all in two days. The only thing he was able to swallow were the numbers of potions they were trying. Every breath he took was like having tiny shards of glass scraping down into his lungs. His fever was high and wasn't letting go. The pain in his head and lungs had numbed him to the pain caused by the scales left on his skin which, thankfully, had started shrinking slightly. The only noise Harry made other than his loud violent coughs were his slight wheezing attempts to breathe.

McMillon asked for Kert's results on the potion combination he had suggested, but it was no good. It was incredibly rare for Dragon Pox scales to form anywhere but the skin for it was easier to dry out and, therefore, harden. The flesh in the esophagus was usually too moist for such a thing to happen. Then again, many new cases of Dragon Pox occur annually, some minor, some devastating.

Harry was lying still on his back, blood-shot eyes closed. His face white and drenched in sweat. His breathing was quick and shallow. He had no energy at all. All he wanted was to sleep or even pass out so he wouldn't feel the pain anymore.

He felt an arm on his back pushing him carefully into a sitting position again. The gas mask was carefully removed. He knew what was coming, either another potion or just more water. He kept his eyes closed, far too tired to open them. He felt a straw at his lips.

"Come on, Harry. You need to drink this," he heard the distant emotional voice of Hr. Jorkinson, but he didn't drink. He tried to turn his head lightly away from it, but she persisted.

"Harry, please. It's just water. You need to drink it or it'll get worse."

Though he didn't want to, he didn't have any energy to fight it. He tried to drink some, but sputtered. The fresh water stung the scale.

Malfoy was getting very worried. It was getting so bad that Harry could barely drink water and breathe. He could only imagine how worried the Weasley's were since they got that letter Jorkinson sent out yesterday. He couldn't think of what else they could do. Kert had gone to brew something that should keep it from getting infected without having issues of it being ingested. McMillon had already gone through a number of files of potential potions to try and Jorkinson was doing everything she could just to keep Harry as calm and comfortable as she could.

The scale was so dry he knew it was bound to peel off soon. If Kert can get that potion ready, it would give them more time, but how much more time would they get? He gazed around and went through the list on his clipboard, but nothing came to him. He then turned to the cabinets of potions above the counter, hoping for an idea.

At around 2pm, Kert came rushing in with a flask looking very pleased with himself.

"I've got it. This should help."

Slowly, they sat Harry up again and tipped the contents of the flask into his mouth. Harry's eyes shot open as a huge cough made the potion splatter on his sheets. It felt as if it singed his throat.

"Harry," Kert said calmly, "I know this will hurt, but it will help keep the scale from getting any worse. Just try your best to keep it down, okay?"

Harry didn't respond. They brought the flask back up again. Tears fell from his eyes as they snapped shut again. With as much effort as he could muster, he swallowed the burning potion. Steam was emitting from his mouth with each exhale.

"Is that normal?" Malfoy asked nervously.

"Yes," Kert answered. "It's cleansing it and keeping it closed. The steam means the scale was close to peeling off and is searing it back. We got it just in time."

McMillon turned to Harry.

"I know it must really hurt, Harry. I'm truly sorry for that, but it _will_ help."

"That's good and all," Jorkinson said helping Harry back onto the pillows, "but that doesn't fix everything."

They continued talking for a few minutes while Malfoy's mind was speeding with different ideas, each one less useful than the last. His eyes scanned the room as his mind wandered. Thinking he missed something, he looked at the range of used potion bottles trying to think of something. His eyes found the large bottle next to Harry's bed that had been there since he was first admitted.

Malfoy's eyes widened and he grabbed the bottle and read down the label on the back. If he was reading this correctly, he was getting an idea that could work, but he had to double check. It would be his fault if this idea ended in the death of Harry Potter.

Jorkinson looked up to see Malfoy flying through files until he found the one he needed while still holding the bottle.

"Draco? What is it?"

"I think I have an idea. It's so simple, but we never thought to use it like this because there haven't been cases like this in ages. Those who have had this condition have died because it was only with older patients, but even then, that was decades ago and this hadn't been invented yet," he said rapidly. He found the list of ingredients in the potion and how it was prepared. If this information was accurate, it shouldn't cause further harm.

" _What is it?"_ McMillon persisted.

Malfoy held up the bottle. The healers looked perplexed.

"The Scale Salve?"

"Yes! Don't you see? It wasn't invented back when the last case arose so it was never an option. It works directly on scales, which, you have confirmed, is what the main problem is. I just looked at the potion information," he added holding up the file. "There's nothing that suggest it would be lethal or even dangerous if ingested. Granted, with how thick it is and how bad the scale has gotten, it would make it harder to swallow and he would have to take it repetitively and probably more often than we would normally apply it on a standard scale. It would be a slow process and there are no guarantees of whether the problem will be solved or not but I think it's our only option right now."

He said all of this very quickly. McMillon grabbed the bottle while Kert looked over the potion information. After a minute, Kert spoke up.

"I don't know. We have to consider the potions we've already given him-"

"But with how thick it is, it'd be practically impossible for him to swallow," Jorkinson interjected.

"I don't feel comfortable about this," McMillon said in a low voice. "Just because it doesn't look dangerous if swallowed doesn't mean it isn't. And it's not just whether or not he can eat it, but what will happen when mixed with others. It hasn't been tested before-"

"When _would_ it be tested, sir?" Malfoy asked. "The last case like this was 23 years ago and the patient was 37. Do you think we should wait for someone to volunteer to eat it or something?"

McMillon threw another dirty look for his tone, but Malfoy didn't care. He stared back with urgency in his eyes.

Harry started to have another bad coughing fit into the gas-mask. Jorkinson ran over to him. McMillon's eyes dropped back down to the file in Kert's hands. After a few seconds, he looked up at Malfoy.

"If we are going to attempt and untested method on a patient… we'll need to tell him and ask if he agrees. Since this was _your_ idea, perhaps _you_ could present your findings." He took the file from Kert and handed it to him.

Malfoy turned and walked to the bed.

"… Harry?" It was the first time he used his first name.

Harry peeled open his glazed, weary eyes and looked at him. Malfoy sat down.

"Listen, I have an idea of something that could help," he started slowly. He knew Harry was beyond comprehending the whole story at this point. "but the problem is that it hasn't been tested before. If I told you what I found, would you be willing to try it?"

There was a pause. Malfoy wondered for a second whether or not Harry had understood him.

Then, in a voice that was muffled by the mask as well as low and hoarse from the insistent coughs, he spoke.

"… I'll try anything."


	9. Chapter 9

The 9th Day

The Burrow had never been so quiet. The days had crept by so slowly it was almost unbearable. The only owls that had come were from their subscription from _The Daily Prophet._ Mr. Weasley asked the last two days off to be there for everyone, especially Mrs. Weasley.

Though she was working hard to keep a smile for her kids, there wasn't a day that went by that she didn't cry. She was also getting distracted while cooking. Two days ago, she accidentally let the sausage burn at breakfast and forgot to heat the bread for toast. Hermione and Fleur decided to help her since then. They were happy to have something to do to distract from the heavy silence.

George and Bill took turns with little Teddy, who was growing more fussy. His hair remained jet black and messy and his insistent shrieks of "UNCKA!" struck everyone painfully in the heart. They didn't even try to explain where "uncka" was or tell him no when he called.

Hermione found Ron polishing and tending to the brooms in the shed, but found it interesting that he didn't even try to fly. She supposed it was because this kept him busier.

Ginny had separated herself from the group most times. She could often be found sitting in front of the fireplace with distant eyes. Other times, she was seen organizing Harry's things in his bedroom.

No one wanted to speak if they didn't have to. All of them had the same thoughts going through their minds. It had been days since they received the letter about Harry, and they still hadn't heard anything. At one point, Mrs. Weasley broke down and claimed she was going to go to St. Mungo's demanding to know what was happening, but Mr. Weasley calmed her down and told her it wasn't a good idea. He reminded her they would contact them if anything came up and rushing there would only draw attention.

Though the morning was bright and beautiful, no one felt the warmth. Mrs. Weasley kept her face away from the family as she prepared breakfast, but they could hear a sniff. After they ate, Hermione and Ron found themselves sitting together in his room, simply enjoying each other's company. Bill, Fleur, George, and Mr. Weasley took Teddy outside to enjoy the nice air. Mrs. Weasley retreated to her bedroom. Ginny was seated in front of the fireplace again, fiddling with her necklace that Harry had given her the previous Christmas.

Then, suddenly, a subtle _whoosh_ came from the fireplace and green flames emerged. Ginny stared frozen in her seat. With another _whoosh_ , a person appeared standing in the ashes. He ducked down and emerged, lightly covered in soot.

It was Hr. McMillon. He saw Ginny sitting there, perplexed and spoke kindly.

"Excuse me, miss, but would this happen to be the home of the Weasley Family? I was informed to simply say "The Burrow" into the floo."

"Er-yes," her voice caught in her chest. "Are-are you Healer McMillon?"

"Yes, I am-"

"MUM!" she screamed while running to the stairs. "RON! HERMIONE! EVERYONE! THERE'S A HEALER HERE! IT'S MCMILLON!"

While McMillon stood still in front of the fireplace, the whole house was booming with rushing footsteps. Within a minute, everyone squeezed around each other to get to the healer. Mrs. Weasley was hysterical.

" _It's about time! We haven't heard anything for days! I was about to come storming down there myself!_ " she tried to keep her tone steady, though angry, but more tears flowed from her eyes as she pointed almost threateningly at him.

" _We should have heard something before now! How dare you keep us waiting! We've been so-"_

"Mada-"

" _Do you have any idea how hard it's been, not knowing anything? I know we aren't blood but we are as good a family as he's got-"_

"Madam, pl-"

" _We don't deserve to be kept out of the loop this long! Now you better tell us EVERYTHING! Right now!"_ Her breathing was quickening dangerously as she finished. She looked about to faint.

McMillon reacted immediately. He lightly took her by the arms and led her to the nearest chair while whispering.

"Madam, _please_. You need to calm down. You're about to hyperventilate."

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small vial of Calming Draught.

"Here drink this."

Everyone held their breath as she finally took it. Her breathing steadied but the tears continued. Mr. Weasley came over and put his arm around her for comfort. She looked at McMillon with large eyes and her hands clasped together.

"… _please_ …" she begged between small sobs, "… just… tell us he's going to be okay."

The heavy silence returned. Though it was only a few seconds long, it felt like hours. Everyone kept their eyes on the healer as he looked back into Mrs. Weasleys wet face. Mr. Weasley tightened his grip on her shoulder. Ginny held her breath.

Then, very slowly, McMillon smiled.

"I can say, with one hundred percent honesty, Harry's going to be fine."

Ron and Hermione sighed with relief and smiles on their faces. They turned and hugged each other tightly. George, who had been holding Teddy, threw him up in the air lightly saying "Hear that Teddy? Uncle Harry's going to be okay!" Ginny sank into another armchair with a genuine smile slowly forming across her face. Bill and Fleur swiftly kissed each other in their excitement. Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with joy and relief. She let out a great " _Oh!"_ and she threw herself into Mr. Weasley's arms. She was crying harder than before but with great tears of joy. Mr. Weasley happily held her, stroking her flaming red hair. McMillon stood back up enjoying the happy reaction to his news.

After about a minute, Hermione spoke up.

"What _happened?_ What took so long?"

McMillon paused.

"Maybe we should all sit down. I'll explain everything, but it will take a little while. Perhaps a cup of tea might help?" he asked.

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley said, regaining composure. "Everyone in the kitchen, I'll make us some tea."

Everyone piled into the kitchen and sat anxiously waiting to hear what happened.

"Well," McMillon said, "I suppose it's best to start at the beginning…"

He went on about the scale on his back that peeled off, the lack of sleep and made it to the troublesome scale that formed in his throat. When they heard this, they were shocked. As he continued, some of the joy about hearing Harry was okay wore off. The struggles that he went through sounded horrendous. He wasn't just sick, he had suffered.

"… but, you healed it, right?" Bill asked nervously. "You said Harry was going to be okay."

"Oh, yes. It's not completely gone yet, but by the end of today or, at the latest early tomorrow, it should be healed," McMillon assured them.

"How did you do it?" Ron asked.

McMillon considered for a moment before answering.

"Well, I suppose I should give credit where credit is due. It was an idea of one of our trainees that did the trick."

Ron's eyes widened.

" _Which_ trainee?" he asked slowly.

"Young Mr. Malfoy."

McMillon had an idea that he would get a reaction like this. Many stared incredulously at him. Ron looked disgusted.

" _Malfoy?_ _DRACO Malfoy?"_

"Yes. Draco Malfoy."

"What could _he_ have done to help?!"

"Let me explain…"

By the end of explaining Malfoy's idea, no one could speak. It was rather impressive, but at the same time shocking. _Malfoy_ actually _helped_ Harry.

"… by the end of the first day that we tried this, Harry was finally breathing easier and, thankfully, he was able to get some sleep. We've been keeping him under surveillance over the last couple of days while proceeding with this method. We needed to be prepared for anything. Once the scale began to shrink, his body didn't have to work as hard. The scales on his skin have all just about gone, his fever dropped significantly, and, we've confirmed this morning, he's no longer contagious. It's all uphill from here."

More sighs of relief escaped the family.

"I will say this, though," McMillon added, "while we are sure the worst is over, it will be a while before Harry has fully recovered. He's going to be very tired for the next several days and will likely be sore as well. He just needs to take it slow. After that," he added with a hearty smile "he should be back to his old self."

"So, sarcastic and troublesome?" George piped up. Everyone laughed.

"Sir?" Ginny asked.

"Yes?"

"If Harry is no longer contagious," she started slowly, "could we see him? Today?"

McMillon's smiled again.

" _That_ is the other reason I am here. I have connected the fire in my office to the Floo Network. If you don't have any more questions, I will gladly take you to see him."

Many leapt to their feet before realizing there shouldn't be so many seeing him at once.

"I'll stay with Teddy," George piped up, "I don't think he likes the floo."

"Yeah," Bill agreed, "Fleur shouldn't be using the floo network either. It would be bad for the baby. I'll stay with her."

McMillon nodded and held out an arm toward the fireplace.

"Shall we?" They all followed.

"Now, my office fire is not always hooked up to the floo for many reasons. However, at times like these I do reconnect it temporarily. It would be best to enter from there, just in case. Patient privacy and all." He added.

They all nodded and, one by one, entered into the fireplace.


	10. Chapter 10

One after the other, they walked out of the fireplace filled with green flames into a large white office. A certificate hung framed on the wall for excellence in healing at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He opened the door and led the way down a long hallway labeled "Dragon Pox: Quarantine"

"Are we in any danger of catching it by passing the other rooms?" Hermione asked.

"Not at all," McMillon assured. "St. Mungo's Hospital prides itself on the sanitation standards it keeps. It's only within the rooms depending on which patient you are seeing. In this case, there is nothing to worry about."

They continued to the far end of the West Ward. The doors they passed all had silver rectangular plates that bore the first initial and last name of the patient within. After passing several doors, they stopped at one that simply held the inscription "HP". McMillon turned to them and lightly pressed a finger to his lips. He then turned and carefully opened the door a small amount and peered inside. A quick second passed and he turned back to them whispering.

"He's still asleep. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you, though. I can let you in, but we'll need to be quiet. He needs his rest."

When they all nodded, he entered the room with each of them close behind.

Healer Jorkinson was clearing out the number of potion bottles surrounding the room. She looked up as they entered and smiled. Healer Kert had left to help other cases the previous day when it was confirmed that Harry's condition was fully stable. Draco Malfoy was in the far corner stacking the number of files they had gone through to be sorted later. He met their eyes for a brief moment and went back to his papers.

Harry was indeed fast asleep, lying on his side under a number of blankets. He was still wearing the gas mask as an extra precaution with the potion sitting on the table next to him. His breathing, which was once quick and shallow, was now calm, slow and deep. The skin that had previously bore the dark scales had smoothed over, but was now slightly pink. His face was still thin and pale and, though he slept soundly, they could still see shadows under his eyes remaining from his sleepless nights.

Ginny rushed forward to Harry's bedside and knelt down by his face, lightly stroking his untidy hair. The others were about to walk forward, but Hr. Jorkinson held up a hand and they stopped. She smiled again, waved her wand and a number of chairs appeared around the room for them to sit in. They gave her quiet nods of "thanks" and took their seats around the bed. Mr. Weasley turned to Jorkinson and whispered.

"How much longer do you think he should stay here?"

Jorkinson thought for a minute and turned to McMillon, who answered.

"I would say at least two more days. We need to give him some nutrition potions to help him gain some weight as well as check back up on where the scales were. After that, I see no reason why he couldn't go home." McMillon was smiling again.

"He looks so… drained…" Hermione commented sadly.

"It took a lot out of him," Jorkinson agreed, looking over at her sleeping patient. "Dragon Pox is a hard mess to fight through, especially when you're older. He's a strong one, though."

"You mean stubborn," Mr. Weasley piped up with a huge grin.

Ron stared at Malfoy, who had just finished stacking the files accordingly. He could feel his eyes on him, but he didn't look up again. He took the large stack in his hands and walked out the door to take them to McMillon's office. Jorkinson and McMillon saw Ron staring, but said nothing. There was a moment of calm silence only broken when Malfoy had reentered. This time, many eyes were on him. He turned to grab his clipboard and hid his face behind it, pretending to make notes.

"I've got an idea," Jorkinson breathed, "How about I show a few of you to the gift shop? There are some things up there that I'm sure Harry would like." She stared pointedly at Ron. Hermione got the message, nodded and grabbed Ron's arm to have him follow her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stayed in their seats and Ginny remained next to Harry.

Once they made it to the stairs, Jorkinson spoke freely.

"I am aware of Draco's past as well as his family's reputation," she started as they made their way up, "but, with the time that I have worked with him, I can say without hesitation that his work ethic and ability to work with others has grown to an acceptable standard. He has been a great help to all of us even as a trainee. Personally, I find it admirable that he is working so hard to better himself after the war."

"… I still don't trust him," Ron mumbled.

"I'm not necessarily asking you to trust him, am I?" she said turning to face Ron as they reached the 5th Floor. "I'm merely stating that a person's past does not determine who they are, but rather their actions _now_ do. You are not the only one to give him a hard time since he started here, nor are you the first to _shove_ him." Ron's ears went pink. "Just note that he didn't shove back."

Ron remained silent during their walk through the shop. Hermione decided to get Harry a palm-sized potted rose bush that changed colors. She found a section that had Hogwarts colors and got ones that gleamed gold and red. Ron purchased a box of Chocolate Frogs a new Pocket Sneak-O-Scope.

When they made it back down, Harry was still asleep. McMillon was checking his pulse and wrote it down on the Malfoy's clipboard. Hermione and Ron placed their gifts on Harry's bedside table next to the potion. Ron noted that, while Malfoy was still in the room, the Sneak-O-Scope remained silent and still.

A little while passed and Harry's eyes finally opened.

"Harry!" Ginny gasped when she looked over and saw he was awake, everyone turned.

Harry looked up and gave a sleepy smile.

"Hi." His voice was barely audible.

"Hi, yourself." Ginny was brimming with happiness. Mrs. Weasley came up behind her to see Harry properly. "How are you feeling?"

"… tired."

"I can imagine," McMillon stated, walking back over. Slowly he removed the gas mask from around his head and set it on the table. He then placed the back of his hand on Harry's forehead. "Seems like that fever finally broke, too."

"… how long have I been asleep?"

"Quite a while, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered, her voice was a little higher than intended and her eyes were filled with happy tears again. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "We're _so_ happy you're feeling better. You had us quite worried."

"I'm sorry," he croaked. He tried to clear his throat and winced slightly.

"Now would probably be a good time to check that," McMillon added pointing at Harry's neck. "I'm gonna need you to sit up for me."

Harry needed help from Ginny as his energy levels were still really low. As the blankets fell, the family saw how skinny he had really gotten.

McMillon looked into Harry's throat and gave a satisfied nod.

"The scale has gone. Your throat will be a little sore and scratchy for a couple days, though. Just to be sure it doesn't make an unwelcomed reappearance; you should have at least one more spoonful of the Scale Salve."

Harry grimaced.

"Is it that bad?" Ginny asked curiously.

"It's not that it _tastes_ bad," Harry began roughly, "… well, it _does…_ it's just that… well, it's so thick… it's like swallowing a big glob of toothpaste."

McMillon grabbed the spoon and dabbed a decent amount on the end. He walked over to the bed as Harry looked away with a small groan. Malfoy grabbed the empty glass on the counter and refilled it with water.

"Last one, Harry," McMillon assured.

Very reluctantly, Harry opened his mouth and took the Scale Salve. After about 30 seconds of fighting the urge to gag, he finally swallowed the thick potion.

"Glugh!" Harry exclaimed shaking his head. Malfoy walked forward and handed him the glass of water.

"Thanks!" He drank the whole glass.

After he handed back the empty glass, Harry was able to enjoy a few hours talking with the Weasleys and Hermione. Around dinner time, Harry was feeling sleepy again. Jorkinson asked that he at least have some soup before turning in. They all assured him they would be back in the morning to see him and they were very happy he was doing better. As they walked out Ron stopped at the door and looked at Malfoy again, who met his gaze. There was a pause and, unnoticed by anyone else but Draco, Ron gave a small nod and left quickly.


	11. Chapter 11

Teddy sat in front of the Burrow pushing a big, bright green ball back to his grandmother, Andromeda. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but would occasionally lob the ball towards her head. His grandmother had already given him a stern discouragement twice and he was about to push a third attempt.

"Teddy," she started in a low voice while firmly holding up a finger, "I said no."

The toddler huffed and threw it at the ground in front of her, it gave a slight bounce and she caught it. Teddy stuck out his lower lip in an angry pout. His hair was still jet black and sticking up in different directions. He seemed to have given up his daily fits to see his Godfather, but was unhappy at his unmet demands.

It was a pleasantly cloudy day. The sun would peak through at times to allow some light to shine. It was decently early in the day and the Burrow was almost empty except for a few regular visitors. Andromeda looked over the child's head to see Bill and Fleur strolling out the door towards them.

"How much longer do you think it'll be?" Bill asked. "They left early enough."

"I'm sure they will be here soon," Andromeda replied optimistically. She, too, has been anxious for the family to return. She was looking forward to "Teddy's Surprise". Turning back to her grandson, she made to roll the ball as they had been doing for the last few minutes, but the child was standing up and waddling away from the house.

"Stay close, Teddy," she warned.

Teddy started to try and pull up tall strands of grass, clenching the blades tight in his tiny fists.

A moment later, there was a deafening BANG that echoed around the house. Everyone jumped, startled at the sudden noise. Teddy squealed, terrified. Andromeda ran over and scooped him up as tears started to form in his eyes. They all stared as a large, purple, Triple-Decker Bus appeared about 50 feet in front of them. It shook dangerously from the abrupt halt. The four of them could make out the silhouettes of over a dozen people lurch about inside. Teddy grabbed a fistful of his grandmother's robes and clung to her. He had never seen The Knight Bus before.

Thankfully, once the source of the noise was recognized, Andromeda smiled.

"It's okay, Teddy! Don't be afraid," she encouraged with enthusiasm. "This is a _good thing! We_ have a surprise for you!"

Teddy was very confused. He loosened his grip on his grandmother as he noticed she was happy to see this strange, purple thing. His eyes returned to the Knight Bus as he saw people he knew stepping out of it.

Mr. Weasley stepped out first and turned around offering a hand to his wife, who followed close by. Teddy relaxed at the sight of them, clearly relieved that no one was in trouble. George hopped down after his mother and started walking towards Bill and Fleur with a greeting smile.

Teddy's confusion returned as he saw the next person coming out of the bus. He couldn't see this person's face. Whoever it was wore a big hooded black cloak and was walking slowly, struggling slightly down the few stairs and onto the grass. Mrs. Weasley smiled and said something that Teddy could not hear.

Teddy whined nervously and curled back into his grandmother's embrace as he stared at the hooded figure. She giggled and patted his back in comfort.

Following the cloaked person was Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Ginny was holding a large lumpy bag. They took a few steps away from the bus and, with another BANG, it zoomed off and disappeared. Teddy jolted in fear and made a scared "mmmmmm" sound as he watched the hooded figure start to walk towards them.

Mrs. Weasley noticed Teddy and ran forward excitedly and called out.

"Teddy! We have a present for you!"

Teddy's eyes flicked to Mrs. Weasley, but immediately returned to the cloaked person. He had stopped when she spoke. Two hands poked out from inside the cloak, reached up and grabbed the edges of the large hood. At first, Teddy didn't want to see who it was, but as the hood was pulled back, he saw round glasses, his same jet black hair, and a familiar smile.

"UNCKA!"

Teddy threw his arms up in the air and was bouncing in Andromeda's arms.

Everyone was smiling and laughing, enjoying the adorable reaction to Harry's return.

"Hey, Teddy!" Harry greeted happily. His voice was returning steadily over the previous two days. He started walking forward again.

Teddy squirmed impatiently, indicating he wanted to be put down. His grandmother set him down on the grass and, reaching out towards his godfather, he waddled quickly, and rather clumsily, across the lawn. Harry crouched down and waited for the toddler to make his way over. Once he did, Harry wrapped his arms around the little one in a welcoming hug.

Everyone watched happily. George playfully squealed "AWWWW!" clearly poking fun at Harry's attempt to cheer up the child. Harry simply laughed and picked up his godson.

"Have you been causing trouble since I've been gone?" Harry asked, still smiling.

Teddy turned to his grandmother and pointed at Harry's face.

"UNCKA BACK! NANA, UNCKA BACK!"

Andromeda couldn't speak, she was giggling too much. Teddy looked up at his godfather hopefully.

"Uncka beddah?"

Harry chuckled.

"Uncle Harry is feeling _much_ better, Ted."

As Teddy cheered, Harry carried him back to the house with his family following.


	12. Chapter 12

As everyone filed into the living room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley rushed to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Since Harry was still holding Teddy, and the toddler seemed perfectly content in his arms, Andromeda went to assist in the kitchen.

"What eez in ze bag you 'ave zere?" Fleur asked Ginny.

"More healing potions they recommended."

"I thought he was 'ealed," she persisted, clearly confused. "Why would he 'ave to take more?"

"He's not healed yet," Hermione corrected, sitting next to Ron. "He doesn't have it anymore, but he'll still be weak and sore for a while."

"I'm fine," Harry insisted, sitting down in an armchair with Teddy on his lap. He looked up to see everyone eyeing him, unconvinced.

"I _am!_ Really," he continued as Teddy climbed down onto the floor. "Compared to how I was last week, I feel great."

Teddy waddled over and grabbed a couple of his toy dragons that were strewn across the floor. He held one out to Harry, clearly asking him to play. Harry smiled and, after a sigh, slid down to the floor to join Teddy.

"Harry," Ron started with an eyebrow raised, "it took you almost forty-five minutes just to get out of bed."

"Takes you longer on a _normal_ day," Harry jabbed with a smirk.

George, Bill and Ginny laughed. Ron glared at them.

"He's not wrong," George added.

"Still," Ginny said, "they said it would be a while before you _fully_ recover."

Harry shrugged and tapped the head of the toy dragon. It gave a cute attempt at a mean growl and snapped its jaws at his rival in the toddler's hand. Teddy was enthralled and tried to tap the head of the dragon he held, but he tapped too hard on the tiny head and it got dizzy. Teddy kept tapping it impatiently.

Though his energy was returning, Harry did find that he would get worn out very easily. Just the previous day, after a cheerful visit from Hagrid (who attracted quite a lot of attention in the lobby of St. Mungo's) Harry was caught dozing off while still sitting up in his bed. He hated this feeling. He felt like a child who needed an afternoon nap. Just before turning in that night, he told himself that he would try to be more alert and energetic, at least for Teddy. However, when a warm, fluffy blanket has you tight in its embrace on a comfy bed, it makes it quite difficult to get up early.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts as Teddy tossed his toy dragon, angry that it was too discombobulated to roar.

"Teddy," Harry started in a low tone. Teddy lowered his eyes, knowing what was coming.

"What did we say about throwing things?"

"Iz bad," he muttered.

"That's right." Harry picked up the tossed dragon and put it in the toy box. "You could hit someone and it could hurt them."

Teddy stood up and ran towards the couch that Hermione and Ron were sitting on. He grabbed the knitted blanket that was draped over the armchair and pulled it off onto the floor. He dragged the blanket behind the couch and, very quickly, he crawled under the cover, giggling.

Harry smiled. It seemed Teddy wanted to play a new game.

"Oh, no!" Harry said dramatically. "Teddy's gone! Where did he go?"

"He learned how to disapparate!" Bill exclaimed.

"Where could 'e be?" Fleur supplied, smiling.

A few of them got up and walked around to make it seem like they were looking for him. During this time, Teddy thought it would be more fun to wait until no one was looking (intentionally) to scurry under the stairs and back under the blanket.

"I guess Teddy didn't want to see his Godfather after all," George said loudly, smiling at the lump under the blanket. They could see the lump shaking with quiet laughter.

Harry winked at Ginny before his next move.

"Uh oh. Guys, I'm starting to feel sick again."

The lump stopped shaking, clearly listening.

"Oh, dear," Ginny joined in with a great tone of unrealistic worry. "Harry, this isn't good! We'll have to take you back to the hospital."

Teddy looked out from under the blanket. He couldn't see Harry, but he listened for more.

"But Harry," Hermione started as she saw Teddy's searching eyes, "if you have to go to the hospital again, then we won't get to see you anymore."

Harry sat back down on the floor made a few fake coughs for effect, but ended up causing a few real coughs due to his scratchy throat. Hearing this made Teddy throw off the blanket and run back into the living room.

"NO!" he shouted.

"Ha!" Harry called out as he reached out and grabbed the toddler.

"You can't get rid of me _that_ easily!" And he proceeded to tickle Teddy. Sure enough, the worry disappeared from the child's face and was filled with joy and laughter.

Not long after that, Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda had finished preparing lunch. Harry walked in, still carrying Teddy. Harry felt his appetite return in full force as he smelled what she had prepared. Without hesitation, he sat down and immediately started filling his plate. Andromeda relieved him of the squirming child and he helped himself to Mrs. Weasley's delicious meal. Everyone felt a bit of relief to see him enjoying a decent serving of something _besides_ soup. To celebrate Harry's return she made sure to prepare Treacle Tart for dessert. Harry thanked her greatly for it as it was his favorite.

Lunch proceeded with talk of the usual popular topics: Quidditch, potential careers, Fleur's due date for her first child, etc. Harry was happy to hear things as they were before he fell ill. Before being taken to St. Mungo's, he always felt like a burden. He coughed through the night, which likely kept them awake. Mrs. Weasley was running around like crazy to get another potion made to help him. He vaguely remembered vomiting once, but the memory was all fuzzy to him now since he passed out not long after. Guilt had pierced him like a knife as he saw the looks of great concern when Mrs. Weasley confirmed it was Dragon Pox. True, he was scared by hearing that and he felt physically horrible, but now that he looked back on it, he felt bad for making them worry so much.

By the time they took him to St. Mungo's, any feeling of guilt was overpowered by pain, exhaustion, and anxiety. It was bad enough that the sickness was taking its toll on him, but if the press found out that Harry Potter had contracted a known, deadly illness, he'd never get a moment of peace. If he wouldn't face interviewers wanting to write about him, he would likely drown in a sea of letters from people.

And then Harry heard Ron address Malfoy.

By the time Harry registered that Malfoy was working at St. Mungo's, he was ready to give up. He figured he would hear his name mentioned in the lobby and it would be on the front page of the _Prophet_ the next day. However, when Malfoy had looked under the hood, Harry could have sworn he saw a glint of actual concern in his eyes.

"Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Mrs. Weasley was trying to talk to him.

"I was just asking if you wanted another slice of Treacle Tart," she said in a soft tone, indicating concern.

"Yeah, thanks" he replied, holding out his plate.

The rest of the meal went by uneventfully. When everyone was done, they retreated back to the living room. They originally intended to go outside, but it had started raining. Harry sat in the armchair by the window and watched the raindrops slide down the glass. Ron and George pulled out some new games from the joke shop to play.

Hours went by; game after game was played until they were all content with sitting around the warm fireplace. Teddy was on the floor again with his toys while everyone else chatted. After knocking down his toy tower a fourth time, he looked up towards the window.

The family was discussing different names for the baby depending on if it is a boy or a girl. Ginny bet it would be a boy since it took her mom seven tries to get a Weasley girl. Fleur was about to speak when a little voice spoke.

"Uncka?"

Everyone turned to Teddy, who had been silent the whole time he was playing. He was now standing over near the wall. Both of his hands were on the side of the armchair. As they followed the toddler's gaze, they saw that Harry had fallen asleep in the armchair.

Ginny smiled and stood up.

"We should probably help him to bed."

"Should we wait until dinner is ready, though?" Andromeda asked as Ginny made her way over to her slumbering boyfriend.

"No," Mrs. Weasley answered. "We'll save him some if he gets hungry later. He needs to rest."

Harry must have been in a deep sleep because it took Ginny a few times shaking his shoulder and saying his name before he finally stirred. When he finally opened his eyes, they were glassy and unfocused.

"Come on, Harry," she whispered as she helped him to his feet.

Harry moaned at the thought of climbing all of those stairs to get to his room. He barely took a step before he felt a tug at his pant leg.

"Hm?"

As he looked down with heavy lidded eyes, he could make out the shape of little Teddy looking up at him.

"Uncka ok?"

Harry gave a small smile.

"I'm ok, Teddy," he muttered. "Don't worry, I'm just going upstairs."

"Seepy?"

Harry chuckled but Ginny answered.

"Yes, Teddy. Uncle Harry's very sleepy and needs to take a nap." Harry groaned at the way she phrased it.

"Ok."

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny both helped Harry slowly climb the stairs. Harry never gave any thought to how many steps there were before he got sick. Now that he was back, it felt like he was using all of his energy just to keep going. Ginny saw him pause near the top, holding on to the railing.

"Almost there, Harry," she encouraged, holding onto his arm lightly.

Finally, they reached his room. Mrs. Weasley opened the door. Harry remembered how messy the place was before he left: empty bottles across the floor, a few specks of blood on the sheet, a blanket strewn across the floor, a wet cloth on the nightstand, and some empty bowls that previously contained soup. Now, however, the room was so clean and organized, he thought they were in the wrong room. Completely drained, Harry walked over to the bed.

Mrs. Weasley reached into the potion bag she brought with her and found the list of descriptions and instructions for which potions should be taken when.

"According to Healer McMillon, you should drink one of the small purple bottles with a nutrition potion to help you gain some more weight." She started digging in the bag to find the bottle in question. "You poor thing," she added sympathetically, "you've always been so skinny and being ill for so long did you no favors. I'm never one to let a child go hungry, so you just help yourself to-"

"Mum," Ginny interrupted.

Mrs. Weasley looked up to see Ginny kneeling beside the bed. It seemed Harry had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.


	13. Chapter 13

_Descending down the staircases of Hogwarts, Harry laughed as he watched little Teddy riding on the back of a dog-sized dragon. It was working hard to buck him off, hopping on the stone ground furiously, but Teddy had too tight of a grip. He squealed in delight as the dragon jumped higher._

 _The squeal turned into a frustrated growl. He looked over and saw Mrs. Weasley telling off one of the suits of armor for carrying around a sword with so many children around. Though the suit was almost twice her size, he cowered in fear as her temper and impatience grew. Just when she was calming down, he turned and sprinted down the hallway clutching his sword to his chest, refusing to let it go. Mrs. Weasley dashed passed him, determined not to let him get away._

 _Harry did not want to miss what was going to happen next, so he ran after them. They were so quick that Harry had a hard time keeping up. He almost lost them around two different corners, but he had to keep moving. Panting heavily, he forced himself through the door on the right, which had just closed. Harry stopped just inside the door to try and catch his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees. As he looked at the ground, he saw a strange flickering light bouncing off of the floor. It was growing larger as he stared._

 _Confused, he looked up to see he was in the kitchen. Hundreds of House-Elves were running about in a panic. A huge fire had broken out of the large oven. Dobby was sobbing in front of the growing flames. Apparently, his favorite sock had fallen inside and started this whole mess. Harry didn't have enough time to catch his breath from running before the heat hit him in the face. The fire was so big and bright that it hurt his eyes. His breathing labored as the smoke entered his lungs._

 _He couldn't breathe... He couldn't move… He couldn't think…_

 _It was so hot…_

"Harry!"

 _A distant voice called for him, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from or who was calling. His chest was so tight. The fire was engulfing him._ _He couldn't see._

"Harry, hold on! We're here! You're going to be okay!"

 _The voice sounded more distant than before. He could barely hear it._

 _So hot... so dizzy..._

"Just hang on, Harry!"

Everything was a blur as he began to regain consciousness. All he knew was that he felt incredibly warm and, no matter how hard he tried, his lungs wouldn't take in any air. He felt so dizzy, so weak. Someone was holding his head up and some strange liquid was being poured into his mouth. There was someone speaking to him… maybe more. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he managed to recognize when his name was called. It was still so warm. He desperately needed air. His mind was getting foggier with every second.

After he drank the strange concoction, he felt something lightly pressed to his face, cupping around his mouth and nose. His lungs felt like they had collapsed. The voices kept calling him again, but he didn't know what they were saying. All he could focus on was trying to breathe and staying awake.

Then, slowly, Harry felt air entering into his lungs. With each new breath he took, the tightness in his chest lessened and the fogginess began to ebb away. He panted heavily. After a moment attempting to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes.

Everything around him was fuzzy and dim. He didn't know if that was due to light-headedness or the absence of his glasses, or perhaps both. For a moment, Harry thought he was back at St. Mungo's because he was starting to recognize the smell of the Respiration Potion and the feeling of the gas mask around his face. However, that didn't seem to be the case. The hospital room he stayed in was usually brighter than this and didn't have much color. Also, as his vision slowly sharpened, he saw someone in front of him that had long red hair.

"Harry? Can you hear me?"

Harry turned his face up towards the voice. There, his eyes met another figure with long red hair. She had been holding his head up slightly and one finger was gently combing through his hair in comfort. He may not have been able to make out her face, but he recognized that touch.

"Gin?"

"Oh, thank God," she sighed.

As his breathing steadied, Harry's memories were starting to return.

 _I'm back at the Burrow._ Harry reminded himself.

The other figure in front of him reached forward and Harry recognized his glasses being brought closer. He tried to lift his arm, but it felt too heavy to move. The figure carefully put them on for him and Mrs. Weasley's anxious face came into view.

"Harry, are you alright?" Her voice shook as she spoke.

"What happened?" he mumbled. His eyes wandered for a moment and saw the main source of light came from the window next to him. The sun had begun to set. He must have been asleep for a few hours at least.

"That's what _I'd_ like to know," Ginny said with both anger and worry in her voice. "I came up here to check on you and I heard you practically gasping for air. You were sweating a lot. I thought you were having a nightmare so I tried to wake you up. You didn't seem to hear me and your breathing got worse, so I ran to get mum and Hermione for help and," she sighed again. "Thank God you are okay."

"It was a relapse," Mrs. Weasley explained sadly.

"Huh?" Harry asked confused.

"It's okay. Healer McMillon said something like this could happen, but I didn't consider it happening while you were asleep. We should have stayed up here with you." She reached forward and brushed a few sweaty strands of hair from his face. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"How are you feeling?"

Harry heard the third voice from the corner. He turned to see Hermione standing close by holding the instructions from McMillon.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Now that he was breathing properly, he felt his head throb horribly, but at least he didnt feel like he was going to pass out, or worse. Whatever that potion was that they had him drink must have helped cool him off because he didnt feel near as hot as moments before. He took a deep breath to test his lungs, his chest hurt slightly but at least he could breathe.

"Better now."

"Good," Mrs. Weasley said with a comforting smile. "You had us really worried."

"Did you have a nightmare?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Now that he was awake, Harry couldn't really remember what he saw.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

"Well, you're alright now and that's what matters," Mrs. Weasley said. "You should get some more rest after that but, since you are awake, you should take some of these potions first."

Harry struggled to sit up. The effort made his head throb again and he instinctively reach a hand up to his temple.

"Do you have a headache?" Ginny asked.

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes closed.

Hermione read off of the paper stating which bottle to grab and Mrs. Weasley complied. Harry removed the gas mask and turned to Ginny.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he said tiredly. He flushed with slight embarrassment at the situation. Ginny rubbed his arm kindly.

"It's okay, Harry. You didnt ask for this."

With that, he took the potions they suggested. Hermione offered him the gas mask again, but he kindly said he didnt need it. After the relief of feeling his headache disappear and the certainty that he could breathe, he scooted back down into the covers, completely worn out.

Harry curled up on his side. Just before he slipped off to sleep, he heard Ginny one more time.

"I'll be right here if you need me, Harry."


	14. Chapter 14

"…. Heart rate is normal….. seems to have no trouble breathing now…. How bad would you say it got?"

"He was _gasping_. Just before we got the mask he stopped breathing completely, but his chest was jolting a bit like he was trying."

"Definitely a relapse."

"Is that bad?"

"Well, it was expected for him to have a problem here or there, but that was more intense than we had anticipated. If he completely stopped breathing…."

"-But you said he's okay now, right?"

"Yes, he seems alright…"

As Harry slowly returned to consciousness, he could hear feint whispering nearby. His groggy mind couldn't figure out who the voices belonged to. Gradually, he remembered the events of the previous night and realized what they were talking about. Though he felt perfectly comfortable and would have happily drifted back off to sleep, he decided he might as well get up.

Opening his eyes, he saw the fuzzy outlines of several people. One of which was sitting at the edge of his bed rather close to him. The lime green cloak was very familiar

"Ah, Good Morning, Mr. Potter," greeted Hr. McMillon. "How are you feeling?"

"Alright, I s'pose," Harry mumbled while rubbing his tired eyes.

"Well, I'm glad you are finally getting the rest you deserve." McMillon smiled.

"We didn't wake you, did we?"

Harry recognized Hermione's voice near the door. He looked up and saw the same three fuzzy figures that had surrounded last night. Putting on his glasses, he saw the room was slightly lit thanks to the rising sun. It was early morning.

"No, you're fine. What's going on, though?" Harry asked staring pointedly at McMillon.

"Mrs. Weasley called me last night after what happened," McMillon explained. "Unfortunately, at the time I was preoccupied with another severe patient. When she clarified that you were stable and had someone watching over you, I told her I would try to come by first thing in the morning to check on you. Since you are up," he continued while rummaging through his satchel, "I'd like to check your throat to make sure that scale hasn't come back."

He pulled out a simple tongue depressor. Harry was slightly confused.

"I thought you said it was gone?"

"It should be, but from what they described, that relapse was greater than we expected. Best check to be sure."

Harry shrugged and complied. McMillon checked and gave a relieved smile.

"No sign of it," he stated cheerfully.

"…. If I remember correctly…. It didn't feel like my throat was the problem last night," Harry added slowly as he focused on the memory.

"Oh?"

"No, it felt…" Harry paused to try and find the words, "…it felt like my lungs weren't working almost like they collapsed."

McMillon said nothing but look thoughtful.

"He was sweating _a lot_ ," Ginny added as she walked towards the bed. "I came up to check on him and he was breathing heavily and it just got worse and worse until he just stopped."

"Wait," McMillon interrupted, "you said he was gasping for air before, but you said he was 'breathing heavily'?"

"He started off breathing heavily," Ginny clarified. "It was like he was panting but as it kept going it sounded like he was wheezing and then gasping."

"Ah…" McMillon murmured to himself. He seemed to understand something.

"Harry, do you by chance remember dreaming about anything strenuous? Perhaps you were running from something?"

"Erm…." Harry thought for a moment, "… I think I was running _after_ something."

" _That_ probably did it," McMillon smiled sadly. "Your body is still weak from the illness and so you aren't supposed to do anything to cause more stress as you heal. While you were at St. Mungo's, your lungs were working harder than normal to take in air because your body was working hard to fight off the infection and the scale made the flesh in your throat swell up. Last night, you believed you were actually running and so you started breathing faster. Your body went into shock of the sudden strain."

Harry looked down at his sheets. He could feel his face reddening in embarrassment and regret. Not only did he make the others worry about him again, but apparently he can't even go to sleep without something trying to kill him.

"I'm so-"

"Don't apologize, Harry," Mrs. Weasley chimed in. Harry hadn't heard her speak since he had woken up. She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. " _None_ of this is your fault. We're just happy you're okay."

Ginny must have noticed that Harry still felt embarrassed and quickly changed the subject.

"Are you hungry, Harry? You didn't have dinner last night and it's about time for breakfast."

"Yeah, that sounds great." Harry smiled while giving Ginny a look that said "thanks".

"I'll take that as my cue to leave," McMillon spoke up happily. He gathered his things and patted Harry's arm lightly. "I'm glad you're doing better, Mr. Potter. If you need anything at all, I'm just a Floo call away."

"Thank you," everyone called as he walked out.


	15. Chapter 15

"I had better get started on breakfast, then," Mrs. Weasley added before heading out herself. Hermione followed closely after. Ginny, however, sat next to Harry on the bed.

"You sure you're alright?" she asked while rubbing his back, clearly worried.

"Yes." He looked her in the eyes to prove he was telling the truth. "I promise. I'm okay."

"Good," Ginny sighed, relieved. She made to get up but Harry stopped her as he remembered something else.

"Wait, how long were you up last night?"

"A while," she said smiling.

"Were you up all night because of me?" Harry started to feel guilty again.

"I was intending to, but around 10 o'clock Mum came in and told me to go to bed. She said she'd make sure you were okay."

She saw that he still looked nervous.

"Don't worry about that now. You're okay, Mum's making breakfast, and Teddy's been hoping to play with you this whole week. Hurry up, get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast."

She gave him a swift peck on the cheek and left. Harry smiled and got up.

There was always something he appreciated about Ginny's direct approach to things. With all of the problems to be fixed, puzzles to figure out and mysteries to be solved, it was nice to have someone who doesn't beat around the bush. At least he didn't have to ask Hermione what Ginny is saying or what she wants. He had enough of that with Cho.

Though he didn't want to think about his only ex-girlfriend, it was another weird positive concept the more he thought about it. Before everything fell apart, she was a nice person to talk to, but there were times where it was so hard for him to think of something to say.

Ginny, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He practically grew up with her. Talking to Ginny was not nearly the struggle that it was for Cho. Also, he didn't feel the need to impress her. Just being in her company was enough to cheer Harry up.

After Harry was done getting dressed and attempting to manage his crazy hair, he made his way downstairs. On the way, he heard a voice from behind him.

" _There_ you are."

Harry turned and saw Ron shambling downstairs still in his pajamas.

"We missed you at dinner. Heard you had a rough night," Ron said worried. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay now. Hungry, though." Harry added trying to lighten the mood. Ron chuckled.

Breakfast was pleasant and, as expected Andromeda arrived with a bouncy Teddy, whose hair was bright blue. His grandmother was clearly exhausted.

"He hardly slept last night and didn't get a nap in yesterday. How does this child have so much energy?" She mumbled as Harry relieved her of the rambunctious toddler.

Teddy immediately started an old classic "game" of trying to take Harry's glasses off his face. Harry would lean his head back just before the child could touch the metal with a big grin on his face. Teddy would giggle and grunt as he made a new attempt.

"Mmmm _MINE!"_ Teddy squealed as he made a big grab at Harry's face.

"Nope!" Harry laughed as the child missed and got his cheek.

Around that time, an owl flew in, dropped a letter and flew off. Mrs. Weasley picked it up.

"Oh, Harry it's for you."

Harry looked up slightly confused. Teddy seized the opportunity and stole his glasses, laughing at his victory.

"For me?"

"Yes, it's addressed to you. Maybe it's a get-well card." Mrs. Weasley said absentmindedly as she passed the envelope to Harry.

"From who?"

When Mrs. Weasley couldn't think of an immediate answer, people around the table started getting nervous. After the war, Harry was swamped with fan-mail. Some included a simple "thank you", some were job offers, and some were unexpected proposals of marriage from women he had never even heard of, let alone meet. The fan-mail died out after a while and, since a year had passed, not much had arrived for Harry except for maybe a letter or two from Hagrid. Harry didn't really keep in contact with much of anyone because the majority of people that he talked to were the Weasleys, Hermione and Andromeda. Since they all meet up at the Burrow, there is never real need for owls.

Harry reached over and picked up the letter while Ginny lifted Teddy off of Harry's lap. She removed the glasses from him and handed them back to Harry. As he looked at the letter, he tried to see if he recognized the handwriting, which he didn't. Not wanting to alarm the family, he lies.

"I think it might be from Hagrid."

"Maybe he's apologizing for drawing attention while visiting you a while ago," Ron chuckled, reaching for a leftover sausage link.

Harry ripped open the envelope and Hermione sighed with relief. Andromeda, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley stared at her, confused.

"What?! Remember when Rita Skeeter wrote that Harry and I were a couple? I got hate mail that included one with undiluted Bubotuber pus!"

"I remember that," Ron chimed in. "she had to run to the hospital wing and showed up late for class with her hands wrapped up so much that they looked like oven mitts."

"That's awful," Andromeda commented. "Who would do that to a student?"

"My guess," Hermione continued bitterly, "is that it was _a student_ that sent it."

"Why do you say that?" Ginny asked.

"Because _that same year_ , we were working with Bubotubers in Herbology class and Professor Sprout said that it is harmful if undiluted. The fact that the letter was sent some weeks after that class, and knowing some of the students that were there, a classmate must have done it."

"That seems like a strong accusation to make," Andromeda replied. "I mean, yes, children can be cruel but sending that pus-"

"Keep in mind," Ron added in Hermione's defense, "we've had classmates that accused Harry of petrifying students just because he could talk to snakes, ratted us out to Umbridge because we actually wanted to _learn_ to defend ourselves, used the Imperius Curse on other students, _poisoned me-_ "

"You were poisoned?!"

"Yeah," Ron shuddered at the memory. "That wasn't fun."

Remembering the topic that brought up the conversation, they all looked back to Harry. While they were talking, he had already opened the letter and read it. A small smile played on his face.

"Who's it from?"

Harry paused.

"Hagrid. He forgot that I was leaving the hospital yesterday and hoped I was doing well."

"That's nice of him." Mrs. Weasley seemed happy that there was no danger, but Ginny and Hermione were skeptical. They didn't see the letter, but Hagrid's handwriting was atrocious and could easily be noticed. The envelope did not bear that bad penmenship.

Harry lied. But why?

Before either could ask him, he slipped the letter into his pocket. He then asked if they were going to Diagon Alley anytime soon, clearly trying to change the subject as Ginny had done earlier.


	16. Chapter 16

"George wanted to show you a new game he invented at the joke shop," Mrs. Weasley remembered. "I was planning on taking you all tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it."

"That's great," Harry responded excitedly.

Teddy was getting fussy again and they all agreed to go outside to enjoy the day. Teddy waddled around in the grass pointing at gnomes poking their heads out of the ground. Harry and Ron walked after him. Curious to see his reaction, Ron picked up a gnome and flung it over the fence. Harry was worried that Teddy would feel bad for it like he did when he first saw the gnomes, but it turned out that Teddy loved seeing the little creatures fling through the air and wave their hands and feet as they flew.

While Ron distracted Teddy, Hermione came up next to Harry and spoke softly.

"So what _was_ in that letter?"

Harry, still looking at the laughing toddler, chuckled, shrugged and simply said "Oh, it was nothing. Don't worry about it."

"If it was nothing, then why don't you tell me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because I don't have to explain every event of my life to every single person I talk to," Harry remarked bluntly, raising an eyebrow back with a smile. "It wasn't hate mail, it didn't have a curse so clearly it's fine."

To Hermione's surprise, Harry confidently walked away to shoo a mean looking gnome that was growling at Teddy from behind a bush. Usually, when Harry was being dismissive, it was because he was worried about something but didn't want to burden others by telling them. This time, Harry didn't seem worried at all. His smile was genuine and he happily continued socializing with the family.

In a moment, Ginny walked up to Hermione.

"Did he say what was in that letter?"

"No," Hermione answered, still looking confused and thoughtful.

By the time lunch had ended, Harry wasn't the only one worn out. Ron had worked up a sweat with the gnomes he threw around. Usually he didn't care for chores, but Teddy's laugh was infectious and he wanted to keep it going. Andromeda was beyond drained, but she was happy to see that Teddy was about tuckered out himself. He sat in his high chair fighting heavy eyelids.

"Finally, I think he'll go down for a nap here in a moment," Andromeda commented gratefully.

At the word "nap" Teddy got fussy. He groaned and hit his hand on the table in protest. The other hand was grabbing his ear tightly, a common sign that he was trying to keep himself awake.

"Come on, Teddy. Let's go upstairs and-"

"No!"

"Teddy, it's time for a nap."

"NO! NO NAP! Uncka play!" Teddy insisted. Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm too tired to play now."

Teddy pouted.

"How about this, Teddy," Mrs. Weasley came in sweetly. "Would you like to share naptime with Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Harry needs to rest, too. Do you want to stay with Uncle Harry for naptime?"

Harry was about to protest, but Andromeda poked his side.

"Maybe he'll agree if you go with him," she pleaded. "He missed you while you've been gone and he was waiting for you yesterday at dinner. Please? I need a break."

It was humiliating enough at the prospect of someone assuming _he_ needs a nap, though he was ready to drop, but this?

"You wanna go with Uncle Harry?" Andromeda pressed.

Teddy reached out for Harry and exclaimed "Uncka!"

Harry felt like he lost a bet.

"Alright, alright," he mumbled while standing up. He made his way over and picked up the child.

Harry made his way slowly upstairs while Mrs. Weasley followed closely behind with Andromeda's bag of toddler necessities.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but Andromeda looked desperate for a quiet moment and you really do need your rest."

"It's fine," Harry mumbled. "It just seems embarrassing."

"What's there to be embarrassed about?" she asked cheerfully. "You're spending time with your Godson. It's sweet!"

Harry smiled weakly. He felt Teddy relax more and more as he made his way up the stairs. By the time they reached his room, Teddy had fallen asleep.

"Here."

Since this room used to belong to the twins, Mrs. Weasley took Teddy and laid him down on the spare bed. As she waved her wand to raise the sides of the bed to keep him from falling off, Harry quietly snuck the letter into the nightstand drawer. Finally, he pulled back the covers and collapsed on the bed.


	17. Chapter 17

Whatever was in that letter was nagging in the back of Hermione's mind. Harry made it seem like it wasn't a big deal. On the other hand, he clearly didn't expect anything from anyone and, if it was someone like Hagrid, he wouldn't have cared if it was seen. He didn't even try and convince Hermione that it was from Hagrid. He knew that she noticed, yet he avoided her questioning.

An idea clicked in her head and, since it was about an hour since Harry and Teddy went upstairs, she thought it would be best to check now. She made an excuse saying she needed to check something of hers and made her way up. When she reached Harry's room, she placed the silencing charm on the door to make sure it wouldn't creek and entered.

As she had hoped, Harry and Teddy were both asleep. Harry was on his side in his own bed while Teddy was in a makeshift crib. Though this was the timing she hoped for, she needed to be careful. Once she tiptoed her way to Harry's bed, she slowly grabbed the edge of the blanket and gradually pulled it back, constantly glancing at Harry to make sure she didn't wake him.

Once the blanket was pulled back far enough, she looked and saw that the letter, which was sticking out of his pocket slightly before, was gone. Frustrated, she replaced the blanket and looked around. Her eyes fell on the nightstand right next to Harry's bed. Making sure to place another silencing charm on the drawer, she slowly opened it and found what she was looking for.

She quickly grabbed it and opened it. It read:

 _Harry,_

 _Next time you go to Diagon Alley, talk to Miranda in Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment.  
She's trying to start a business of "simply enchanted jewelry".  
Nothing huge, but interesting stuff like color-changing jewels, designs that change according to mood, stuff like that.  
You said you were considering special ordering a ring for your girlfriend, and Miranda has a talent for it.  
I'm not guaranteeing you will find the perfect one, but it is at least an option that I don't think you would have heard of yet._

 _Draco_


	18. Chapter 18

Just as she finished reading, Hermione noticed a muffled whizzing sound somewhere behind her. She whipped her head around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The noise was starting to grow louder. Worried that the noise would wake the two, she quickly stuffed the letter back into the drawer, closed it and dashed out of the room. Just as she was closing the door, she could hear Teddy moan grumpily.

From inside the room, she could make out Harry's voice.

"Mmmmm…. Teddy," he mumbled groggily, "I told you… no more playing right now."

The whirring sound continued to grow. Hermione stared at the doorknob trying to think of what it was. Did Harry set an alarm? That wasn't one she had heard before. Besides, it sounded like it was inside something.

Teddy cried angrily. Harry grumbled. Hermione pressed her ear to the door and heard the sheets being flung from the bed. Harry was up. After some more shuffling, the noise grew far more loudly that Hermione thought someone else would hear. Not wanting to get caught, she sped up the stairs, but not before hearing Harry speak again.

"What the hell? Why is the Sneakoscope going off?"

The moment Hermione made it to her room and closed the door, the noise died down, but Teddy's cries continued. She leaned against the door with her heart pounding furiously. While catching her breath, she could make out the sounds of footsteps coming up the stairs. She prayed that no one would check on her and just go straight to Harry's room.

Gritting her teeth, Hermione silently scolded herself. How could she have forgotten the Sneakoscope that Ron gave Harry at the hospital? She prided herself on preparing every single step before making a move, and she was almost caught like an amateur.

Suddenly, Hermione jumped when she heard a knock at the door. Her eyes were wide with panic. Did they know? Did someone see her as she ran up the stairs? Did Harry catch on?

With a shaky hand, she opened the door.

To her relief, she saw Ginny standing there, eyebrows furrowed while frowning.

"Did you hear that?" Ginny asked while jabbing her thumb behind her.

"Er- yeah." Deciding to go down the false path of ignorance she added, "What was that?"

"Apparently, it was Harry's Sneakoscope. It just went off in his trunk and woke them both up. Teddy is having a tantrum and Harry is certainly not happy either."

"Oh," Hermione added, trying and failing to look surprised. Ginny's eyes narrowed.

"What?" Hermione asked, worried.

Without saying a word, Ginny marched passed Hermione into her room. She grabbed the door from behind Hermione and closed it, leaving them alone in her room.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

"What?!" Hermione gasped.

"Don't play dumb, Hermione," Ginny jabbed with a sly grin. "We both know you're not good at it. That was a brand new Sneakoscope. It doesn't just go off without warning. Besides, just 20 minutes passed after you went upstairs and we started hearing it go off. You're not the only one who can put two and two together."

Ginny was eyeing Hermione with a victorious grin while Hermione tried thinking of any excuse to get her out of this. It's bad enough that she got caught, but what she found in her search….. She certainly couldn't tell Ginny.

"Spill it," Ginny demanded.

"Okay," Hermione whispered. "Yes, I was in there. I forgot about the Sneakoscope. I didn't mean for it to go off. It didn't stop until I got to my room."

"What were you doing in there?"

"Erm…" Hermione thought frantically of something to get her out of this. Before she could open her mouth…

"You were sneaking a glance at the letter, weren't you?!" Ginny guessed while pointing at Hermione. Instead of sounding accusatory, Ginny had a greedy gleam in her eye that resembled that of the twins.

"I….. erm…" She couldn't tell Ginny. It would ruin everything. "I-I-I was looking for it, yes."

"And?!"

"I couldn't find it."

Ginny looked shocked.

"You couldn't?" she asked skeptically.

"No," Hermione continued to lie. "I had to move slowly so they wouldn't hear me. I even cast a silencing charm on the door. Once I started looking into one of the drawers of the dresser by the window, I could hear it go off. I didn't realize what it was at first, so I froze. But then, Teddy started waking up and I knew I'd get caught. So I ran." To make it sound truthful, Hermione made sure to sound just as disappointed as scared. She decided on changing the area where she looked in the room in case Ginny wanted to go searching. If she did, at least she would try at the other end of the room than where it actually was.

Hermione and Ginny continued to stare at each other. Ginny was clearly searching Hermione's eyes for a hint of a lie, but, since Hermione had sprinkled in some truth, she was convinced and let out a saddened sigh.

"Shame you didn't find it."

"Yeah."

Another knock at the door made the two girls jump. Before they could reach the door, it opened to reveal Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, girls," she started, "since Harry and Teddy are up, and Teddy is throwing a fit, we thought we'd distract him by going to Diagon Alley this evening. We won't be able to visit George because he is interviewing some potential employees, but there is still stuff to see. Hopefully it will make Teddy happy to be outside with everyone."

"Okay, Mum," Ginny said.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasley added with a sympathetic look, "would you help me with Teddy. I sent Andromeda back home to get some rest. Teddy will be staying here tonight."

"Sure, Mum."

With that, the two redheads left.

Hermione sat on the side of her bed staring at the floor. All she could think about was how happy she was that no one caught her and that the mystery had been solved. She sat there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, when a voice broke into her thoughts.

"You saw it, didn't you?"

Hermione jerked her head up to see Harry leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed. It took her a moment to realize that his letter was folded up in his hand. He did not look amused.

"Wha- what'dy-"

Before Hermione could finish her obvious question, Harry stepped in and slammed the door shut. Whipping out his wand, he casted _Muffilato_ and turned back to her.

"You read it, didn't you?"

Hermione was actually scared. There was a look in Harry's eyes that she hadn't seen before. It seemed to be a mix of anxiety with fury. Frozen with fear, she said nothing.

Harry went on.

"I never thought you'd go behind my back like this," his voice was low, yet harsh. "I thought I made myself clear when I said you don't need to know _everything_ about my life. Can I not keep anything _private?_ _Even from you?!_ "

"H-Harry," she stammered.

"Why?"

"I-I don't…"

"You were the closest one to my room when it went off and I could tell you wouldn't let it go, but I didn't think you would stoop so low as to sneak through my stuff _while I was sleeping!_ Do you know how weird that is? How uncomfortable that makes me feel? You put Teddy in a right mood and, let me tell you, I'm not happy either." He finished his statement through gritted teeth.

"I-I….. I'm sorry," she had started tearing up. "I- I mean it. I'm sorry. I wish I never went in there. I-"

Harry cut her off by waving his hand at her. He turned around and looked as though he was about to leave, but he didn't. Instead, he looked down for a moment, looked back up at Hermione with a dull flame of anger still in his eyes, but said nothing. After that, he took a breath and took a seat at Hermione's desk, facing her.

They both sat in silence for a moment. Hermione was confused. What did he want?

"Tell me," he ground out slowly. Hermione didn't even blink.

"Did you tell her?"

"No!" she gasped out in desperation. "I swear, Harry! I admit, I snuck into your room to look at the note and… yes I read it. But I _promise_ you, Harry. I didn't tell her."

Harry looked at her with the same calculating look that Ginny did. Finally, he sighed.

"Good."

"I promise, I won't tell anyone."

Harry grunted while looking down, still clearly disappointed, but not near as angry as before.

The silence between them continued uncomfortably until Hermione finally gained the courage to speak.

"Erm…"

Harry's eyes snapped up.

"What?" he asked.

"Erm…. there was…. something… I wanted to ask you…"

"Yeah?"

Hermione tried to find the words.

"That letter…"

"Yes?" Harry pressed, impatiently.

"…. Malfoy sent it?"

Harry paused, his face expressionless.

"Yes, he did."

Hermione struggled with her words again, so Harry went on without prompting.

"Look," he began, "don't think that we are suddenly best friends or anything, because we're not. I was just as surprised to get it as you were. Regardless…. he helped me. Even when the healers were running around trying to find what I'd need next…. he…. I mean… he wasn't…. he just…. ugh."

Harry growled and looked away for a moment, but Hermione knew he wasn't finished.

"I don't remember much of it," he continued, "but, there was a point when the healers were off looking for a potion to help my cough and Jorkinson went to get me food. We both felt really awkward and….. I dunno… I guess I thought it would be easier to break the silence. At least it was _something_. So, I just tried talking to him. You know, pass the time…. and… I guess he was fine with that.

Anyway, I was getting exhausted, but we were still talking. I think he was the one asking if Ginny and I were still together because she was holding my hand in the waiting room. My memory is a little fuzzy… I was really tired, and my fever was high… I guess I told him that I was looking for a ring, but I don't remember him saying anything after that. A minute later, McMillon came in with the parcel you guys sent. I didn't think much of that conversation until he sent this letter. I think it would be weird to reply."

"Sounds like he's changed a bit," Hermione added lightheartedly.

Harry shrugged.

"Maybe. I can't say I trust him."

"Well, maybe not fully, but I think you do a little," Hermione stated simply.

Harry raised his eyebrows and she continued.

"Okay, it takes a bit more than a couple nice gestures to forget what happened in the past, but it seems like he is at least _trying_. You seemed to trust him enough with telling him about the ring-"

"That wasn't trust. That was deliria," Harry interrupted defensively. Hermione huffed.

"Still, this was nice of him." Harry shrugged again. The silence returned, but it didn't last long.

"On a similar note…" Hermione persisted with an excited grin.

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned.

"I promise I won't tell, but-" Hermione was practically bouncing. Without warning, she shot out of her seat and hugged Harry.

"Woah!" Harry gasped, completely caught off guard.

"I'm so happy for you!" she whispered, trying to make sure no one outside the room would hear.

Harry couldn't help but smile.


End file.
